Emancipation of One, Emancipation of None
by RayWritesThings
Summary: Harley is convinced they're getting out of Arkham today; Pamela isn't so sure.


**This fic is actually one I'm cross-posting in real time onto here, AO3 and my tumblr. Hooray! This was a birthday request from my beta and sister, who is not on this site, but I thought you all might enjoy it, too. Thanks for reading!**

**Emancipation of One, Emancipation of None**

"Today's the day, Red!"

Pamela sighed, yet dutifully asked, "What day, Harl?"

Harley shook her arm yet kept grinning as she said, "Psych evaluation. We're almost free of being cooped up in here!"

Cooped up was right. The two of them were currently squished into one corner of the couch in the break room since Croc was taking up more than half on his own. There were other chairs available, of course, but Pamela was comfortable where she was.

"Try not to get too excited," she cautioned. "They might take it for mania."

"C'mon," Harley scoffed. "Doctah Leland says I'm a slam dunk."

Pamela highly doubted those had been Dr. Leland's exact words. She could also remind Harley that Dr. Leland has thought her sane before, and look how that had turned out. But that would be unkind, and she wasn't really in the mood. She was already sure she would be failing Harley today, anyway. Pamela had never fully passed through the psych evaluation process to being declared sane.

"And you will be, too. Remember all the coaching I gave ya?"

Pamela nodded.

"Good." Harley threw her arms out, one going around Pamela's shoulders and the other smacking Croc in the side. He barely noticed. "Boy, I'll tell ya, I can't wait to see the babies again."

Pamela tried not to shudder. She did not miss those slobbering hyenas in the slightest, and it was only Harley's intense love for them that allowed her to swallow her disgust and let them anywhere near her plants.

"Whatcha looking forward to most when we get outta here, Red?"

A guard entered the break room at that moment, saving her from having to respond. "Isley?"

She stood and affected a bored tone. "Here."

He motioned her over. "Evaluation time."

She was led to Dr. Leland's office, her nerves growing with every step, writhing like vines beneath her skin. She'd tried to follow all of Harley's instructions, the things she knew from firsthand knowledge that the doctors were looking for, but had it been enough?

Dr. Leland wore a kind smile when Pamela sat down. "Pamela, you look well."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"I must say, you've been making significant progress this latest internment. But," the woman's smile dimmed. "The janitor did find this amongst your trash when he was cleaning."

Pamela stiffened when Dr. Leland showed her the newspaper. It had prominently displayed a piece about some new development project breaking ground on an unprotected wood just beyond the city limits. Without thinking, Pamela had taken her child-proof clippers and cut all their smiling heads off in the photo before tossing it in with the rest of her composting.

She barely managed to keep her tone light. "Am I not allowed hobbies? Freedom of expression?"

"Given your history, this would suggest something more of premeditation."

"Oh for heaven's — it's _paper._ They already killed a perfectly good, innocent tree to print that abhorrent story on it," she said, her voice rising beyond her control. "Why is it a crime for me to further mutilate it? They murdered it!"

Dr. Leland sighed. "I cannot recommend your release when it's clear you still have volatile triggers, Pamela. I'm sorry, but you will be remaining in Arkham."

"Well, good! Who wants to mingle in a society obsessed with the destruction of nature?" A guard grabbed her arm and heaved her up from the chair. "And you can tell those murderers their days are numbered!" She yelled just as the door to the doctor's office closed.

Her righteous fury banked, however, when she caught sight of Harley waiting her turn with another guard. She gave Pamela a hopeful smile, but Pamela bowed her head, wilting in on herself. She didn't want to see Harley's face fall in crushing disappointment.

She was returned to her cell, left to languish in the dark. Pamela went over to her single potted rose and watered it out of habit more than anything. She'd survived years in Arkham before she and Harley had struck up their strange partnership. She would do it again. She had to.

But then, there came the sound of shouting. One voice in particular.

"This is injustice, I tell ya! You all need to lighten up, take a joke for a joke! So what she wants to murder some lousy old billionaires. Who _needs_ 'em!" It was followed by a rather overblown laugh, in Pamela's opinion.

A couple of guards entered the hall, bringing Harley along between them. She slipped out of their grasp when they reached Pamela's cell and ran right up to the glass. "Red!"

"Harley? I thought—"

"I threw the whole thing!" Harley announced with pride. "Soon as Doctah Leland said you weren't getting out."

"Harl, I — you didn't have to," she said, putting one hand to the glass. She'd known how excited Harley was to get out. This was so _stupid_ and sentimental—

But Harley gave her a huge grin. "Course I did. Bats woulda caught me anyway trying to spring ya. This way's just easier, that's all."

"But what about your pets?"

Harley shrugged. "My family's gonna keep looking after 'em for a while. They'll be okay. I'll just hafta shower 'em in even more kisses when I see 'em!"

"Time to go, Quinzel," one guard said at last, grabbing onto her arm. "Your cell's waiting."

She wriggled forward and placed a great, smacking kiss on the glass of Pamela's cell. It left behind a deep red stain.

"They can try to split us up, Red, but it's you and me, babe!" Harley called over her shoulder as she was led away.

Pamela stood at the glass, watching until Harley was taken to her cell and locked inside with a cheery, "Thanks, fellas!".

The pair of them walked off, shaking their heads. "She really must be nuts to want to stay here."

As their footsteps faded away, Pamela traced the glass over the lipstick stain with a finger. Against her better judgment, a smile bloomed.


End file.
